


Good Vibrations

by elvish



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, just regular ol' humans, they're not countries in this fic!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-06
Updated: 2014-10-06
Packaged: 2018-02-20 02:20:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2411399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elvish/pseuds/elvish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's an earthquake, and they're the only ones in the building. Alfred, of course, is the hero.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Vibrations

**Author's Note:**

> first fic!!! heck yeah. heck yeah heck yea h  
> give me prompts with these two losers like seriously they need much more love and i'm here to supply it  
> title named after the beach boys song because lol originality  
> anyway yeah enjoy or whatever  
> (crossposted at my tumblr, creepykageyama!)

The sky had looked perfect that morning. It was an early sunrise, new light dimly shining through gray. The sun typically didn't appear before Alfred awoke for work, so it was a nice surprise when he rolled out of bed and was greeted with soft autumn warmth from his bedroom window. Smiling drowsily and yawning, he grabbed his glasses off the bedside table and began preparing for the workday.  


Even the ride to work was pleasant. The coffee he'd gotten from the McDonald's drive-thru warmed him, and the traffic congestion didn't bother him nearly as much as it did on any other given day. Everything was just hunky-dory.  


Flashing a grin and waving with a biscuit-gripped hand at a silver-haired co-worker (the only one who'd gotten to the office as early as he had, he noted), he made his way back to his cubicle in the back of the office. Alfred's cluttered desk was a mess of various paperwork he'd put off until it was far past due. In fact, it was a miracle he kept a job at all. At least he had unwavering charm and charisma to keep him afloat.  


Plopping ungracefully into his leather chair, he set up his laptop and geared himself up for the daily grind. Taking a swig of coffee, he set to work. First, the assignment that was due two months ago...  


He was only a quarter of the way through the paper and halfway through his biscuit before he noticed the tremors. With wide eyes, he watched the drink on his desk shake violently. “Oh shit,” he thought aloud. What were you supposed to do during earthquakes again?  


Aforementioned silver-haired coworker was passing by Alfred's cubicle when the shaking started. He ran to Alfred with an incredulous look. “Get under the desk, idiot!”  


Oh, right. Shelter in place. That's what you're supposed to do. Well. A hero should know that.  


The tall albino all but pushed Alfred under the desk (“Alright, ok, _ok_!”), before crawling under himself. It was big enough for the two of them to fit comfortably, but didn't give them much wiggle room. Alfred shot up to grab his half-eaten biscuit before returning underneath. The other man gave him a ridiculing look and an eyeroll, to which he returned a defensive shrug.  


“Alfred,” he introduced himself through a full mouth. If he was going to be thrust into this situation, he might as well make the best of it.  
“Gilbert," the other man supplied. “I work in tech.”  
Rumbling and falling furniture filled the silence that followed.  
The power flickered, then cut out completely.  


“Great,” Gilbert huffed under his breath. The shaking slowed and ceased shortly after. He climbed out from underneath the desk, throwing a “you ok?” over his shoulder. Alfred nodded in response and followed suit, frowning at the papers strayed everywhere. He bent down to salvage what he could, placing them haphazardly on his desk. His cubicle was never exactly organized, but this was ridiculous, even for him.  


Gilbert, who'd ventured out to survey the rest of the damage, gave a loud sigh. “The doorway's collapsed,” he pulled out his phone, then cursed under his breath. “Is your phone working? Mine's dead.”  


Alfred rummaged through his pockets before pulling out a battered iPhone. “Yep,” he replied, unlocking the screen and handing it over to Gilbert. “We should at least call my boss. Let him know we're here, tell him the damage,” he said, tapping in a number.  


Alfred wandered out into the office while he made the call. It didn't look too bad, all things considered. He didn't smell smoke, so at least they weren't trapped with a fire. The doorway was definitely collapsed, though. Thankfully, the windows were big enough for them to squeeze through, if they really tried.  
He berated himself internally for not knowing more about these situations. He was the hero, after all.  


Gilbert went out to him shortly after, returning the phone. “Well, he knows now.” He began picking various items up from where they'd fallen and sat them back on their table. “We might as well wait. Responders should show up sometime.” As if to make his point, he went down the hallway.  


Without much else to do, Alfred decided to attempt some paperwork. Now was as good a time as any, right? But he soon found himself bored to tears, eyes straining due to poor lighting, and found his way to the lounge.  


Gilbert had somehow found a book and sprawled out across the entire sofa. He couldn't make out the rest of the it, but the book had the word “awesome” in the title. “Hey, scooch over.” He sat down without much of a warning, narrowly missing Gilbert's legs. He then pulled up Flappy Bird (yes, he is the only human on earth who still plays it) and only got past the first obstacle before his phone was yanked from his hands.  


“Don't run out your battery!”  


Oh. Good point.  


Alfred sighed resignedly and leaned back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. Why were power outages still a thing? They shouldn't be a thing. Not in this day and age. He felt himself slowly nodding off, remembering all the paperwork that was due...  


When he woke, his neck was stiff. Rubbing it out, he surveyed his surroundings. The lounge had arguably the worst damage of the office. The coffee table was turned on its side, the cabinet doors were all askew, and the bookshelf was doing a lousy job of keeping the books in order; they were splayed all across the floor.  


Looking to his left, he noticed Gilbert had fallen asleep at some point. His book was open on his stomach, rising and falling slowly. He felt a twinge in his chest at the sight. Which, that was weird. He couldn't admire the view for long, though, because an aftershock soon began. “ _Really_?”  


“Hey. Gilbert. Gil. Wake up, bud,” Alfred pushed on the other man. “Mh?” came the weary reply. A lamp next to the sofa teetered precariously on its stand, and began to fall in Gilbert's direction. Without a second thought, the blonde jumped up to shield him. It managed to fall on his back. “Ah, _shit_. Ow.”  


Completely awake now, Gilbert stared at him, wide-eyed. The tremors were already dying down. “Whoa, what the hell?” He shot up, moving so Alfred could sit. Gilbert went to look at where the lamp had hit him, but the other man stiffened at the touch. “Sorry. Can I? You could be really hurt.”  


Alfred nodded vaguely, unbuttoning his dress shirt and pulling it halfway up, just enough so the injury was exposed. Gilbert moved the fabric out of the way, forcing himself not to think of the connotations that could be brought on from this situation. “Eugh," he wrinkled his nose. "That's pretty... not awesome.” There was a large purplish-bluish bruise forming across the small of his back, but no blood was drawn.  


Alfred hadn't noticed before, but the silver-headed man had a slight German lilt to his voice. It was barely there, but fairly apparent. It was pleasant. “Hey, where are you from?”  


“...What?” Gilbert was thrown off by the question. He put Alfred's shirt back down. “Why?”  


“Uh. No reason – ow – just wondering.”  


“East Germany. Thanks, by the way. For saving me from the lamp, I mean.”  


Alfred turned to face him, fixing his shirt. “Makes sense. Your accent and all,” he beamed. “And yeah, dude, don't mention it! I'm the hero.”  
They fell into the lull of casual conversation until the responders arrived, hours later.  


The next week, the office was cleaned up enough for work to resume. Again, Alfred entered the office with a grin and waved, coffee in hand, at a silver-haired co-worker. “Hey, Gilbert.”


End file.
